Just a little girl
by thesilvercrowns
Summary: Edmund Pevensie and Lucy Pevensie. Edmund is tired of being left out of everything and tired of always being looked at as the villain. He has been sacrificing for people ever since he can remember, but they never return the favor. Will Lucy, one of his most loved ones return the favor? Non-incest.


**Edmund and Lucy- Just a Little Girl**

**Author's Note: I do not own "The Chronicles of Narnia by C . S. Lewis". It is the property of C. S. Lewis, and neither do I own any of the characters in this story. This is non-incest. Visitors, please read and review. Pweety pweeze:3**

Edmund walked, no, stomped without realizing it through the ornately decorated halls of Cair Paravel. He didn't care. He didn't care at all. He didn't care that everyone in Narnia always thought that he was a traitor. He didn't care that in the future, children will read in their history books that King Edmund was formerly on the dark side, that he was the "traitor Pevensie". He didn't care that whenever he got the duty of escorting any Narnians in times of war, they had a look of fear on their faces, which was often best described as anxiety. They probably thought he would just hand them over to the now demolished and non-existent forces of the White Witch. He didn't care that when the subjects were under Peter, they were as relaxed as taking drinks from a cool sparkling stream. When they were Susan, the men were concerned more about their Queen's safety than their own. Edmund thought they were silly and that it was pointless to even ask Susan's army to escort them, it would just mean Susan had another hoard of bodyguards. Lucy agreed with him on that subject.

With the thought of Lucy, Edmund let out an angry growl. He didn't care. He didn't care at all. When the subjects were under Lucy, they had the best defense system ever. This was due to the fact that that Lucy was an excellent fighter, and that the soldiers wanted to protect both their Queen and the fellow Narnians because they were rallied by the burning inspirations of their Valiant Queen.

Every one loved Lucy.

And everyone hated Edmund.

And Edmund also didn't care that he actually didn't have a home. Or parents. He was adopted by Mr. Pevensie because he found him lying on the streets as a baby, abandoned and uncared for, sickly with a whipping cough. He had taken her to the one-month pregnant Helena Pevensie, his wife, and 3 year old Susan and 5 year old Peter. Helena opposed a bit at first, for food was scarce and this infant needed breast milk and survival chances were one in a million. Peter seemed to have hated him from first sight; Susan was too young to judge the matter. And after Lucy joined their cozy family, she loved him. Impartially. That was because she didn't know he was adopted. But by some miracle, he survived.

By the time he stumbled in to Narnia, Edmund had lost everything. By that he meant he had lost his mother's arms. Even when he had refused her kisses and hugs, he had relished each and every moment when she tried to pull him out of his tantrums. He had lost his father's calm and authoritive voice, which always softened at his sight. He missed the way his father took him between the knees when he did something wrong and told him not to do it, instead of Peter's raging and patronizing attitude. Because of his wretched snobbishness, he had even lost his little Lucy's warmth. And then he had happened upon the Witch, who because of her readiness to give him as much Turkish Delight as she wanted, and her apparent positive attitude towards him as being perfect, handsome and her choice to make him King, putting Peter under him and giving him all the love he wanted, warmed up his little heart to the point of making her appear equivalent to a Fairy. So he had joined her. And dearly paid the price.

When Aslan's army had recruited him, Peter loved him. As a brother. But not enough to allow him on a throne, which he was ready to give to his sisters.

Even after the War, his adopted siblings minus Lucy certainly did not want him on a throne. Not even the Narnians wanted him as their King. As everyone whispered how the blood of a Pevensie could ever betray, Edmund felt like turning around and screaming that he wasn't a Pevensie. People only thought he was.

And Lucy, dear Lucy, had been kind to him. And at that moment as adolescence seeped in, Edmund had fallen in love with her. Perhaps it was because he was not use to anyone really loving him, so her affection for him seemed equivalent to him as a lover's love. But he kept quiet. Because maybe, if she learnt he was adopted, she would not love him anymore. She would most probably be too upset that her long-known brother was in fact adopted. And if because of this she developed other feelings for him, maybe he couldn't make her happy. She was too young for feeling the thorn of love. And she deserved much, much better. She deserved to marry a true royal, most probably and Archenland Prince. Not a seeming King who was in reality a street rat.

His mere appearance painted him apart from the Pevensies. Lucy and Peter with their matching cerulean eyes and bronze hair, traits of Mr. Pevensie. Susan with her raven hair and green eyes, which were exactly the shape of Peter, only bigger. She was the only one who inherited Helena's profound beauty. And Edmund. Raven Hair and onyx eyes. Tall, slender frame. Pale skin. Nothing like the rosy warm Pevensies.

One day, they had nearly kissed. It wasn't at all like the classic fantasies where the prince pushes the girl against a wall and she readily agrees. He had been assigned to take her to bed, and as he had tucked her in, he had lent in to give her the regular goodnight kiss on the forehead. She had pulled him in to annoy him in a fit of giggles and mischief, and that was when their lips had almost touched. And he had reacted violently. Almost reacted. He ha d gasped and nearly bent down to kiss her . But he didn't. But that simple gesture had polluted Lucy's mind. She had been shocked. Without a word, she had turned over, and had not got out of her room for the next whole day.

Edmund looked up. Lucy was standing in front of him. Her eyes widened with horror, but Edmund grasped her hand as she tried to run away. "Hear me through."

And just like she'd been hypnotized, she looked into her eye. They were masked with fear. Why is it that everyone is afraid of me?Edmund frowned. He felt like screaming. But he was determined to move on.

All of his losses evaded his mind like knives. But he could deal with it. But not this._  
_She couldn't understand the torture chambers he had gone through with the Witch. He had purposefully distracted Jadis, taking each whiplash with agony, blocking out his thoughts by his own unrestricted howls. He had screamed, resulting in the Witch beating him even more in perverse pleasure at his pain, thus becoming even more distracted. He had bought the Narnians time, because for once, he felt like sacrificing for the Narnians even if he didn't know them for long, he felt a strange urge of loyalty. But they didn't return the favor. They looked at him like a traitor.

Huh. She was valiant. And she couldn't outright admit it to the whole world. That she was in love with him._  
_

Then horribly, he felt guilty. Like he had done a crime. Every December, when the King and Queens moved to his palace in the west for their winter holiday, Edmund and Lucy felt suffocated. _  
_

They were supposed to be a family.

As he stared at her cerulean eyes, he felt like telling her that he was not her brother, and a relationship would not go against any principles. But he loved her too much. He wouldn't make her go through what he was going through. He would be a brother to her, make sure she got all her happy family times, got a handsome prince, no one would know about this. She was only a little girl after all.

"I'm sorry I put you through this. It won't happen again."

Lucy silently looked away, gave a nod of consent, and turned around and walked let her go, permanently slip from his fingers.

And for once again, Edmund Pevensie sacrificed for a loved one. And once again, the loved one didn't return the favor.


End file.
